


Ground Rules

by violetvaria



Series: Stable AU [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Rocking chair, Stable AU, dad!Jack, lots of physical affection, teen!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 03:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17594054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria
Summary: “Jack?”Finally.“Yeah, kid?”The voice was quiet and hesitant. “Do—do I have a curfew?”Jack sat back. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. From the way Mac was watching him from underneath his shaggy hair, attempting to gauge the man’s reaction, Jack guessed this wasn’t the real question Mac had wanted to ask, merely part of a larger idea spinning in that ginormous brain of his.~~~a scene set in dickgrysvn's Stablehands + Stable Homes AU





	Ground Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stablehands + Stable Homes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by [dickgrysvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn). 



> Thanks to the gracious and talented dickgrysvn for creating the Stablehands + Stable Homes AU!

“Okay, that’s the last one.” Jack handed a plate to his dish-drying assistant, soon-to-be son, and boy who had captured his heart. Mac, approximately two inches from Jack’s side, silently took the plate with a quick smile up at his guardian and dried it efficiently.

Jack watched the boy from the corner of his eye, seeing the reluctance in the three steps he took away from Jack to put the dish in the cupboard. Mac had been… _off_ , somehow, these last few days. He’d been quieter than usual, and when they had finally finished at the stables this evening and Jack had asked if he’d wanted to spend their Friday night doing anything special, Mac had asked to just go home, eat dinner, and watch a movie.

That was more than fine with Jack. This week had been busier than normal for them both, and he hadn’t had as much _facetime_ with his kid as he liked. Truthfully, if he couldn’t grab the kid up in his arms soon and hold him tight, his heart might explode. He just felt emptier without Mac, and he guessed from the boy’s clinginess as they cleaned the kitchen together that Mac was feeling it too.

Mac had returned to Jack’s side and was looking up at him expectantly. “Hey, munchkin, how ‘bout you go pick out a movie while I hit the shower, okay?”

Mac’s nose scrunched adorably at the nickname, and he looked disappointed, but he nodded without a word. Jack had sent him off to shower as soon as they got home while he heated a frozen lasagna and prepared a quick salad. He hadn’t taken the time to shower himself, wanting to get Mac fed as soon as possible. The boy was still too skinny, although he was at least no longer looking quite so much like a stick figure. But now Jack was sweaty and still reeking _eau de equine_ , so he wanted to get cleaned up before relaxing in the living room.

Jack could feel Mac’s eyes tracking him as he headed for the bathroom, not making a move until the man disappeared from view. Jack left the door open a crack, something he had learned made Mac feel safer, more welcome. He wanted the kid to know he was permitted through any door, that he could always come in. Mac had thankfully never walked in while Jack was in the shower, but Jack needed him to understand that he could do even that if he ever had reason.

Five minutes later, Jack was in a fresh t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, striding impatiently into the living room. It was very much _Mac-time_ , he thought.

The kid was hovering near the TV, remote dangling in his hand. His eyes were directed at the device, but Jack could tell he wasn’t seeing it. It wasn’t the intense, how-can-I-improve-on-this-gizmo stare Jack had come to expect, and the kid had long ago taken apart and put the remote back together, so it wasn’t an I-wonder-how-this-works look either.

 _Kid has somethin’ on his mind_. Maybe he could get it out of him tonight.

Aloud, he said, “What’d ya decide, kid? And just ‘cause it’s your turn to pick doesn’t mean I’m sittin’ through one of them documentaries about how to coil copper wire or something.”

Mac looked up with a start, seemed to take a moment to interpret Jack’s teasing, and then snorted. “What kind of documentary is _that_?” He had just a bit of the spark that Jack so loved to see in his eyes, but it lasted a mere moment.

Jack sighed internally but didn’t push. Mac would open up when he was ready. Besides, it wasn’t as if they’d had much time together this week, even if Mac _had_ wanted to talk. “So, don’t keep me in suspense, kid. What’s playing tonight?” He moved around the couch and headed for the huge, overstuffed easy chair.

Rather than answering, Mac shifted so Jack could see the screen for himself. He had the movie queued and ready. _Die Hard_.

Jack stopped short, turning to look back at the kid. “Really?” he said before he could stop himself.

Big blue eyes widened slightly. “Is that…okay?”

Jack wanted to kick himself. The kid was clearly feeling more vulnerable than usual. He wasn’t sure if Mac had chosen Jack’s favorite movie to please him, or if he just wanted one they’d both seen a dozen times—well, maybe only half a dozen in Mac’s case—so they didn’t have to focus on it. Either way, Mac was clearly hoping for…something.

“Of course it’s okay, bud! Just surprised that you’re starting to show a taste for the finer things.”

This earned a smile, and Jack proceeded to the chair. It was a relatively recent acquisition, a behemoth that seemed to dwarf the longer couch next to it, but when Jack and Mac had gone furniture shopping for the new house, Jack had known immediately that they had to have it. It was so plush that sitting in it was like sinking into a cloud, it fully reclined, and—best of all—it rocked. In the store, he’d pushed the hesitant Mac down into it, teasing him for looking like a tiny elf in the giant chair, and used one hand on an armrest to demonstrate. As soon as Mac felt the gentle motion, his eyes grew large, and he looked up at Jack.

“So that’s a yes?” Jack had grinned.

Mac nodded eagerly.

Jack knew the kid enjoyed curling up in the chair while he read, and when he was waiting for Mac to get home, Jack liked to sit there too. But the best part of this first major purchase together, even better than the rocking, was that it was—just—big enough to share.

Mac’s head was down, but under his bangs, he was watching Jack. The instant the man flopped down in the recliner, Mac was across the room and scrambling up into his portion of the chair, an elbow landing a glancing blow to Jack’s midsection.

“Oof!” The clumsy ascent was expected, but the speed with which it had been executed was not. “Hey, you’re finally starting to weigh more than a newborn foal, kid.” Jack playfully rubbed his ribs as though Mac had actually made much impact, and with his other hand, he ruffled the mop of blond hair.

Mac tried to level a glare at being compared to a horse, and a baby one at that, but he couldn’t hold on to the scowl. He knew Jack worried about his weight and was always nagging—sorry, _reminding_ —him to eat. Then a frown flitted across his face, and he flicked his eyes away.

Jack was watching him closely and saw the thought almost at the same time it formed in the kid’s mind. He wrapped his arms around Mac and pulled him close, the boy practically sprawled on top of him. Jack took just a minute to feel tension ease from his muscles, his heart lightening now that he was holding his kid. _If there is a heaven, this is all I need. Just this._

He stroked Mac’s hair and continued down his back, one palm making slow circles across the tense shoulder blades to help the kid relax. He wanted Mac to be ready to hear him.

When he felt the small form curling closer to him, he whispered, “But no matter how big you get, you’re never gonna be too big for me to hold you.”

It was clearly what Mac had wanted to hear. Jack could feel the relief oozing out of him, and one of the kid’s hands crept up to clasp Jack’s shirt. Jack started rocking, gently, and Mac hummed contentedly into his shoulder.

After a moment, Mac’s head rose slowly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “What about when you’re really _old_ , though?” he asked with pretend innocence. “You know, like in a couple of years?”

Jack’s mouth dropped open and a laugh escaped before he could even pretend to be insulted. God, he loved this kid, this whip-smart little genius who somehow, against all the odds, trusted an average guy like Jack Dalton.

Jack laughed another minute before wiping the tears—caused by the laughter, _of course_ —from his eyes. Mac was watching him, grinning.

Jack mussed the boy’s hair. “Tell you what, kid. When I get old and feeble, I’ll sit in _your_ lap instead. Deal?”

The smirk had softened, but the blue eyes were still glowing. “Deal,” Mac said so quietly it was little more than a breath.

Jack grinned broadly and dropped a kiss on the kid’s temple, a gesture that was always rewarded with that particular expression, one full of amazement and happiness, that made Jack recognize all over again that he was the luckiest guy on earth.

“Hey, we watchin’ this movie, or what?” he finally prodded. After Mac had “fixed” the remote—truthfully, even before that—the silly gadget just seemed too complicated to fuss with, so Mac was always in charge of it.

Mac twisted so he could aim at least one eye at the TV without moving from his place nestled against Jack’s chest. The hand not tangled in Jack’s shirt operated the remote without visual assistance, and they both relaxed at the familiar opening sequence.

Halfway through the movie, Jack realized the kid wasn’t even making an effort to watch anymore. He was so still that Jack figured he might have fallen asleep, but when he ducked his head to get a look at the kid’s face, the blue eyes were open a slit. Mac saw the look and opened his eyes a little more.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna finish,” Jack murmured, continuing the soothing rocking, hand rubbing up and down Mac’s back at the same tempo.

Mac shrugged. “’S your favorite.”

Jack shook his head fondly. “No, _you’re_ my favorite.”

The kid rolled his eyes, but he seemed pleased nonetheless, so Jack pressed his advantage.

“I’d rather hear about the world according to Mac.” He paused, but the kid didn’t respond. “At least, if you have anything you’d like to share.” Another pause. Mac was looking down, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hey.” Jack grabbed the slender shoulders to hold the kid a little further away, enough to look him in the eyes. Mac seemed startled, and Jack immediately softened his voice. “C’mon, kid. I know somethin’s on your mind. Wanna let ol’ Jack in on it?”

Without looking, Mac managed to pause and mute the movie, but he didn’t answer.

“That’s it,” Jack encouraged, using his skittish-horse voice. “Whatever it is, kid, you can tell me.”

No response.

He tried again. “Somethin’ you want to ask me?”

At this, Mac’s eyes flew up to Jack’s face.

“Okay, then,” Jack coaxed. “I can’t give you an answer until I know the question, son.”

Mac was back to chewing on his lip, but he appeared to be thinking, so Jack waited, one arm around the kid’s back and the other rubbing one thin arm.

“Jack?”

 _Finally._ “Yeah, kid?”

The voice was quiet and hesitant. “Do—do I have a curfew?”

Jack sat back. Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. From the way Mac was watching him from underneath his shaggy hair, attempting to gauge the man’s reaction, Jack guessed this wasn’t the real question Mac had wanted to ask, merely part of a larger idea spinning in that ginormous brain of his.

He resumed rocking and moved his hand down from Mac’s elbow to catch at the fidgeting fingers. Mac grabbed his hand as though his life depended on it, and Jack felt another rush of affection for the kid. Not only would this connection provide mutual comfort, it would make it easier for Jack to gather clues about the kid’s mindset.

“Well, I don’t know, son,” he answered honestly. “Guess I hadn’t thought about it.” Striving to keep his voice casual, he asked, “Have you been thinking about it?”

Mac half-shrugged, expression noncommittal.

“Any particular reason this popped into that genius brain of yours?” He squeezed the kid’s hand to prevent him from shrugging again.

After a long moment, Mac answered very quietly, head down, as though he were talking to the chair. “Bozer has one.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said, although this did not, in fact, make anything clearer.

When Mac didn’t volunteer anything further, Jack puzzled over this odd conversation, wondering what to say to draw the kid out. Why would he and Bozer be talking about curfews? It was possible Mac’s best friend had mentioned it in passing, but it was likely—especially the way Boze talked quickly and constantly about everything under the sun—that it had come up before now, back when Mac still lived with his sorry excuse for a biological father. Jack doubted that James had ever bothered with a formal curfew. Rules weren’t kind to bullies. Rules were consistent, and that meant a bully didn’t have the right to get angry about something that had never been a problem before.

Jack didn’t realize that he was scowling, squeezing his kid’s hand even tighter, until Mac let out a small squeak and looked up at Jack nervously.

“Sorry, kid,” Jack said immediately, trying to banish those anger-inducing thoughts. He released Mac’s hand so he could wrap both arms around the kid and pull him close. He thought he heard Mac sigh in relief.

After several minutes of silent rocking, Jack attempted to continue the conversation. “Do you think you _should_ have a curfew?” he offered.

Mac lifted one shoulder, head still tucked under Jack’s chin. “Did you?”

A little surprised, Jack took a second to respond. “When I was your age? Yeah. It was…I think it was 10 on school nights and 12 on the weekends. Or somethin’ like that.” He looked down at the mess of blond hair. “But, kid, that doesn’t mean you and me have to set something up like that. Times were different, then.” He paused long to enough to give Mac a chance to make a crack about his age, but the kid was silent. “Now, with everybody having a phone in their pocket all the time, it’s easy to know where you are and what time you’ll be home.” Jack carded his fingers through a few blond tangles. “Besides, your phone has GPS. If you decide to run away from home, I can track you down. And don’t think I wouldn’t. You’re not getting away from me that easy, son.”

Mac’s nose wrinkled as he digested this half-threat, half-declaration of love, but the logical part of his brain couldn’t keep from saying, “If I ran away from home, the first thing I’d do would be to ditch my phone.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Is this scenario somethin’ I need to be planning for, kid? ‘Cause just to let you know, I’ve chipped plenty of animals in my day. I’m sure I could manage something even on a scrawny little pup like you.”

“You’d _tag_ me?”

Jack had to laugh at the mingled disbelief and indignation in the kid’s voice. “Whatever I have to do not to lose you, buddy.”

Mac let out a breath that huffed against Jack’s shirt. “Mmm. You won’t,” he said after a minute, and Jack hugged him even tighter.

They rocked for several more minutes, until Jack was ready to give up on learning any more about what was really going on in the kid’s mind, figuring he was almost asleep. But then the fingers twisted in his shirt moved just slightly, and Jack leaned his ear down to make sure he caught the quiet words.

“Ms. Sparrows asked what the rules were. Here. With you.”

And suddenly, _suddenly_ the light dawns. Jack had had his own uncomfortable conversation with their social worker during her most recent home visit.

 

_“So, Mr. Dalton,” the woman said, adjusting her glasses primly, while Jack tried not to be bothered that she refused to use his first name. “Let’s talk about discipline.”_

_Jack actually gaped at her. He’d respected Ms. Sparrows in spite of her air of formality because she seemed to genuinely care that the kids she investigated were placed in good homes. But now she had clearly lost it. She was fully aware of Mac’s history._

_“Talk about_ what _?” he gasped._

_She smiled patiently. “I just mean rules and guidelines that you’ve laid out for Angus. Structure, to help him feel safe, and clear expectations. Consistent consequences.”_

_Jack shook his head, still reeling a little. “Mac’s a great kid, Ms. Sparrows. He’s never any trouble.”_

_She continued smiling. “I’m sure he is, Mr. Dalton. He seems like a delightful young man. And he’s eager to please.”_

_“He is,” Jack agreed slowly, wondering where she was going._

_“But make no mistake, Mr. Dalton. This is what we call the ‘honeymoon’ period. Right now, you feel like nothing can possibly go wrong.” Her expression, for a moment, was almost wistful. “You probably can’t imagine Angus making any missteps at all.”_

_“I can’t,” Jack agreed, a bit stonily. “Because he’s brilliant.”_

_“Smart kids make mistakes too, Mr. Dalton. And while he wants to please you, he’s also a teenager, and he needs to know where the lines are. You don’t have to decide today, but it’s better to lay down ground rules before there are any issues.”_

_“Ms. Sparrows, all due respect, I don’t think Mac needs a bunch of rules to keep him tied down. He needs support and freedom and—” Jack’s voice hitched just a little. “Unconditional love.”_

_The woman nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I absolutely agree with you, Mr. Dalton. But please realize that clear expectations give children the freedom they need—the freedom to explore the world without needing to explore your boundaries. They don’t need to spend time and energy wondering what you want because they’ll already know. That lets them focus on more important things.”_

_Jack was silent for a minute. Maybe she wasn’t quite as insane as he’d first thought._

_“So, I need to come up with a bunch of rules? Which ones do I need?” Jack wondered if she could tell that he was starting to freak out, just a little. Maybe he needed to get one of those parenting books for dummies._

_She smiled broadly. “Mr. Dalton, every parent is different. Every child is different. There is no one right way. I’m just encouraging you to think about this sooner rather than later. Don’t give Angus time to worry about where the lines are.”_

_Jack frowned, still thinking._

_“Remember your own childhood, your parents. That will be a good place to start. What worked for you that might also work for Angus? Remember, every child is different.”_

 

Yeah, his little genius was different all right. Jack was pretty sure there was no parenting manual in the world that would adequately capture his kid. In the three days since the social worker’s visit, Jack had mentally shelved the topic, intending to think about it when he had more time and energy.

But maybe he had left it too late after all.

“What did you tell her?” he asked the boy gently.

Mac buried his face deeper into Jack’s chest, the way he did when he didn’t want to answer.

“Hey, kid,” Jack murmured. “It’s okay. You can tell me.” Silence. “I had kind of a weird conversation with her myself, this last visit.”

Mac raised his head a fraction at that.

“C’mon. You tell me yours, then I’ll tell you mine.” He nudged the kid conspiratorially and was rewarded with a faint smile.

“She just…asked that, and I told her about the rules at the stable, and she said that was work, not home. So I guess…I didn’t know.”

Jack knew how much it bothered Mac not to know something when he thought there was no possible way of finding out. And it hurt that Mac thought he couldn’t bring it up with his adoptive father. _‘Course, the kid’s still carrying around a lot of weight from his—from James. He has to work to remember that things are different now._ At that moment, Ms. Sparrow’s comments took on new meaning. Mac shouldn’t have to struggle to figure out all the differences between his old life and his new one.

Jack began stroking the fluffy blond hair. “It’s okay, son. Matter of fact, she asked me pretty much the same thing. And I didn’t know either.”

Surprised blue eyes lifted. Jack caught the gaze and held it, smiling.

“Truth be told, I was thinkin’ I’d have to spend some time figurin’ it all out before I said anything to you. But now…well, I think it makes more sense for us to figure out the ground rules together, don’t you?”

Mac’s mouth fell open for just a second, and then he looked doubtful. “I dunno, Jack.” He fell quiet, but Jack could tell he was still working himself up to say something, so he waited. “Don’t—aren’t parents supposed to make the rules?”

Jack waited another moment to make sure Mac didn’t have more to say. “You know, son, that lady did say somethin’ that was pretty smart.” He waited until he had Mac’s full attention. “She said that every parent is different. And every child is different.”

Mac blinked, apparently underwhelmed by this pearl of wisdom.

“And I think that means that _we_ —you an’ me—get to decide what works for us, and who cares what everybody else does?”

Mac was getting it now, a hint of a smile starting to grow. “So, just ‘cause Bozer has a curfew doesn’t mean I have to have one, right?”

“Right. Unless you and me—together—decide we need one.”

Mac dropped his head back to Jack’s shoulder and hummed softly. “Dunno.” He yawned hugely, melting in Jack’s embrace.

“We don’t have to decide tonight,” Jack murmured. He could feel Mac blinking sleepily, but the kid stirred as though not yet ready to call it quits. “How about…we just think of the most important rules we want to have?”

“Like what?” There was a tiny edge of anxiety in the kid’s voice, but mostly, it was full of trust.

_God help me, I couldn’t love this kid more if I tried._

“Well, I have one. I think this will be our very first rule. You ready?”

Mac’s fists clenched Jack’s t-shirt as he looked up, but he nodded.

“Okay, here it is. When we’re at home, alone…” Jack winked. “I get to hold you as much as I want.” He gave the kid an enormous squeeze, hard enough to leave him gasping for air, but the blue eyes were bright.

“That’s…a rule?”

“Yep. Jack and Mac Rule Number One. Whaddya think? Think you can live with it?”

Mac tried to smother his grin. “Maybe.”

“And you know what happens if you break the rule?” Jack tapped the end of Mac’s nose with one finger, attempting to distract the kid from dwelling on the types of consequences he had been accustomed to for so many years.

It worked. Mac shook his head, eyes sparkling.

“Well…you…get… _tickled_!” Jack pounced on the kid’s ribcage, tickling with both hands, while Mac shrieked with laughter.

Several minutes later, Jack was grinning like a loon, and the kid was collapsed on top of him, a few breathless giggles still escaping.

Jack looked down at the boy fondly. “I love you, kid.”

Mac froze momentarily at that, still unused to verbal affection. But then he looked up solemnly. “I love you too, Jack.”

Feeling as though his heart would burst, Jack couldn’t resist pressing another kiss to the kid’s forehead. They rocked together for a few minutes, and Jack was just about to suggest bed when, to his astonishment, more _ground rules_ swam into his head.

“I thought of another one, kid,” he said slowly, trying to examine it from different angles before sharing.

Mac straightened up to focus.

“How about we say…if you’re ever—and I mean _ever_ —hurt, or sick, or injured in any way, you have to tell me. Okay?”

Mac blinked and then blushed. “Is this ‘cause I didn’t say anything when Pepper stepped on my foot last week?”

_Wait, WHAT?_

Jack tried to keep his expression neutral, but the kid was perceptive. “Oh…you didn’t know…”

“Okay, whoa, kid.” Jack grabbed the boy’s shoulders before he could slide away. “No, I didn’t know, so now I definitely think this is Rule Number Two, but the most important thing is…are you okay?”

“It’s just a bruise.” Mac met his guardian’s stare and said a bit defensively, “Honest! I can still move it and everything. It doesn’t even really hurt anymore.”

“Show me.”

Mac sighed but didn’t argue, and his contortions as he pulled his knees up to his chest to yank off a sock without losing contact with Jack…well, that was so cute that there was no way Jack could even pretend to be angry.

The bruise, miraculously, turned out to be merely a bruise, and Jack hastened to assure the kid that he hadn’t broken the rule, since they hadn’t made it last week. _Damn, I’m gonna have to figure out what to do if he does hide something like that from me again._

“Mac, promise that from now on you’ll tell me. If you’re sick, or hurt, or—”

“I promise, Jack.”

“Good boy.”

Mac tucked his head back under Jack’s chin, knees still curled to his chest. “Jack?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Do you have to follow the rules too?”

Jack cupped a hand around the back of the golden head. “Yeah, of course, buddy. They’re _our_ rules, not just yours. I’ll tell you if somethin’s goin’ on with me, okay?”

Mac nodded, satisfied.

“You got any other rules you want to lay on the ground?”

Mac’s eyes flicked up.

“Y’know, because they’re _ground rules_?”

“You’re not funny, Jack.”

“Aw, admit it. You love my sense of humor.”

Mac snorted, but he was smiling.

“I’ve just got one more. But, kid, it’s an important one.”

Mac matched Jack’s serious expression with his own.

“I think…we should promise that we will always be honest with each other. No matter what. No lies, ever.” He looked deeply into the wide blue eyes. “I’m not gonna ask if that’s okay, ‘cause I think it _has_ to be okay. But…do you think you can promise me that?”

Mac didn’t look away as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, Jack. I’ll always tell you the truth. Promise.”

“And I’ll never lie to you, son.”

Mac’s voice was quiet but strong. “Okay.”

“Oh, and one other thing…I think we need a dead drum to Rule Number Two.”

“A _what_?”

“You know, we need to add more to it.”

“You mean an _addendum_?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. This talkin’ about being honest just reminded me…I think we need to say that if there’s somethin’ wrong—not just the physical, you know—but somethin’ we’re thinkin’ on and worryin’ about or scared about or—”

“I should have said something about Ms. Sparrows earlier. I know you knew something was wrong, but I just didn’t—I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, kid,” Jack soothed. “I should have brought it up myself, but we’ve been busy this week, huh?” He waited until Mac nodded. “But that’s why we need to agree. We’re not gonna keep this stuff inside anymore. Okay?”

There was a pause. “Okay, Jack. I’ll try.”

Jack pulled the kid to him so he could nuzzle the soft blond waves. “That’s all I’m asking, kid.” He knew this wouldn’t be the last conversation they’d have on the topic, but further discussion could wait. Nestled against Jack again, the kid was fading fast.

“Hey, little boy. Last chance to get in on the ground floor.” He nudged Mac. “See what I did there?”

Mac just rolled his eyes.

“You got anything important you think should be Jack and Mac Rule Number Four?”

“Mmm.” Jack could tell from the hum that the kid was thinking something but wasn’t sure he could say it.

“It’s all right, son. Come on.”

“Was just thinking one thing,” Mac mumbled.

“Well, considering you’re a little genius, your one thing is probably better than any ten things I’m thinking, so let’s have it.”

Mac sat up, meeting Jack’s gaze, and the man could swear he saw the answers to the mysteries of the universe, unfathomable, swirling in those blue eyes.

“I…it’s…I mean, _I_ think it’s important…”

“You can say it, kid,” Jack encouraged almost inaudibly.

Mac took a deep breath. “Don’t—don’t send me away. Ever.” He swallowed hard. “Please.”

Jack sat stunned for half a second before engulfing his kid in a bear hug. “Oh, Mac. Kid, I could never…” He rocked the boy until the little shivers shook themselves out of the slim frame and Jack thought he could speak without his voice breaking. Then he put his hands on both sides of the kid’s face and looked him in the eyes.

“Son, I agree what you were thinking was important. But that isn’t a rule.”

Mac’s lips formed an _Oh_ , but not even a breath escaped.

“It’s a guarantee.”


End file.
